


"i try to call you every day."

by Nixaurum



Category: OMORI (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Pining, Spoilers, don't mind me, just a simple kel kinnie, made in like one day its really not that good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 01:07:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28769835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nixaurum/pseuds/Nixaurum
Summary: The last thing Kel expected to see after four long years was his best friend's house on sale. Maybe reaching out one more time wouldn't hurt that badly.
Relationships: Kel & Sunny (OMORI)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 118





	"i try to call you every day."

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing any form of fiction on here, so hopefully it isn't too gruelling to read through. Please be aware that there are spoilers for OMORI here and a lot of indulgence.

Standing in front of that door had become a new part of his morning routine, Kel found, ever since discovering that the house it belonged to was going to be sold. Dawn would break and Kel found himself there again, his fist knocking on that plain, pretty door. It wasn't that he expected any sort of answer - no, he had become long accustomed to the silence that he was afforded - but it would tear him apart to finally accept that he would never be able to see his friend's eyes, not even once more. That's why not a single day would miss the hard drumbeat his knuckle gave, percussion to match the whistle of birds and the light woosh of wind. It was a morose melody that Kel had composed for himself, one with notes of denial and a melody clutching onto the progression from five moments ago, one that he hoped would one day bring his friend back to life. Maybe he would wake up from the coffin of his bed and come to face Kel once more.

Of course, that within itself was a pipe dream, and the basketball player knew that. If four years of attempted contact had failed, then such a simple and unassuming rhythm of grief would surely do no better. He knew that and he didn't care. As long as a single hope remained, as long as this door didn't leave him too, then he would knock at it all year long just for an answer.

As much as he hated the door for locking away what used to be the brightest spark of his life, he could appreciate that it was the only connection he had left. He could still vicariously experience all of his memories at this door, knocking away, remembering all of the time that he had with the face that haunted his mind. Before this symphony had segued into this tragic movement, it bursted with vibrance and beauty, the harmonious strings of a violin resonating and the taps of fingertips against piano keys painfully memorable.

It was only when those instruments halted their graceful waltz that all the others rested their case, too, and everything seemed to move on. But nothing could quite compare with the memories that single motion had. Even as the sound of that violin drifted away, it still bounced around in his mind, never letting him forget the saccharine tune that it played. Nothing so delightful could ever manage to be forgotten. No memory like that could die, and that was why this door seemed to frustrate him so, even as the only link between the person he had lost and himself. It seemed to block out every chord played by that friend of his, allowing him not even a scrap of that progressive melody he adored.

But if this door one day were to disappear, so would the thing that he so long pined after. If- no, when- this door disappeared, he would be left without a single trace of that friend he so dearly looked forwards to meeting again. And now knowing that the devil would steal away this one gateway into his past friend so soon, it only filled his fists with more conviction, fingers digging into his palms as his knocks repeated, one after another, that monotonous beat never failing to sound Kel's dull agony. To begin punching at this door for everything that it's taken from him and everything that it will take from him, to fall to his knees and cry out his worst to whatever cruel curse had been placed on him - that's what he found his heart begging for. The only thing restraining him from that sort of ugly display was the grace he once remembered his friend carried and the smile he knew he had to put on. Being found bawling on the floor would only show his true weakness, how his shoulders are made of less than steel, and how he's not somebody who can take the burdens of others.

That's not what he wants his friend to see. He wants his friend to see him as confident and smiley as ever, to be able to comfort him. After all, it was his sister that had passed, not Kel's or anybody else's.

The same sister had perfected the flower crown that him and his friend held in their hands, a floral arrangement decorated with colour and life. It was her crown that they held, but Kel can only view it as their moment, fingers imperceptibly trembling as two hands connected through that symbol of joy. It was the crown he imagined they would one day wear once they ruled, once they could finally stand up to the bullies of the playground and tedium of school. It'd be their crown once they could feel the same way about one another. Vividly as ever, he could feel the warmth of his cheeks and the excitement of his heartbeat in that single snapshot, even if the person that created that moment was now gone.

Whether it was his friend or his sister that was gone, at this point, he isn't sure. Perhaps it's both. What happened to Mari shook everyone to their cores, and maybe it shook his friend so deeply that he no longer lives either, only surviving over microwaved steaks and sleep. That being the case, it'd be irresponsible for Kel not to see his own fault in not sufficiently looking after him, and it'd further his guilt to never act now. If he couldn't make himself strong once for someone so deep in their misery then squarely, that would be his own liability. He was never the one that truly suffered the events of that day. He was the one that had to keep on the brightest beam he could and look after everyone else, even his own big brother. It'd be cruel to only now drop that face at such a vital point, and that's why he keeps on knocking, praying that he would finally receive an answer.

Another memory surfaces and it's another one gifted by Mari. His friend's birthday, with him sat in the box that his sister and Hero had given him. It appeared that his friend was rather interested in the box, regardless of what present it had previously contained, and soon arrangements were made for him to sit in it with his new pet cat. Beyond musings about his friend being the true present and whatever fluffy mush came to mind, Kel couldn't help looking over his friend such as a guardian angel would. In that place, he would be safe, and Kel would be able to ensure it. Nothing could possibly be more important to him than that. In the end, he had given the feline sharing the compartment its own bowl of food, and although the person he looked after seemed to refuse any snacks, he was sure to bring his own food for the ride.

Yet if Kel was supposed to look after his friend like that, he hadn't done a good job at all, and it only made him feel horrible. Each day that passed, even as he faced this door once more and once again tried to rekindle the dreams he had once chased, he seemed to forget the single person he had sworn to never lose sight of. Ultimately, memories never did compare to the warmth that actually seeing his face brought, and as memories turn old and weary, they start to lose more and more of their glimmer. One day, he would forget the brightness that his friend had shined into his life. That thought within itself was terrifying. Once the last remnant of light faded away, he'd truly be left with nothing, and there'd be nothing he could do about it.

With one final knock, Kel lowers his arm. It seemed today hadn't been very fruitful, either, and there were so few days left... maybe there would never be a resolution to this story. It wouldn't surprise him, and he couldn't help but feel he would deserve it for not doing enough for that friend. One step is taken backwards, then another, and Kel begins to turn around,

before the door peaks open and he can finally hear the answer he was so desperate for. Sunny, standing there, and Kel, a basketball securely locked by his arm. Reaching out one last time really didn't hurt at all.


End file.
